alone in this quaking
tunnel not a hint
of promised light
but we are safe
still as if reclining
among illicit violets
enjoying a tender
shifting twilight
tenebrous here
alone in this
serious afternoon
dissolving into waiting
submerged
in soft-edged pages
pleasantly yearning
to move to make
more to feel less
transluscent
(c) 2020 by Hannah Six
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